LEARNING to PLAY to LEARN Lessons in Educational Game Design
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LEARNING TO PLAY TO LEARN Lessons in Educational Game Design Nick Fortugno & Eric Zimmerman An Education in Educational Games Educational games are a hot topic these days. From game developers and learning theorists to classroom teachers and policy wonks, all manner of curious folk seem drawn to games that teach something, to someone, in some way or another. However, the only consensus in this whirlwind of activity seems to be that educational games are something of a failure. To quote industry veteran Brenda Laurel at a recent conference, “I can sum up educational games in one word – and that word is... CRAP!” Why would anyone want to take part in such a doomed enterprise? Educators are energized by games’ ability to engage with students, to capture their wayward attention and help them learn in rich and dynamic ways. Game designers and developers are increasingly drawn to create educational games as well – perhaps from a desire to make new kinds of games, to create work with a purpose beyond pure entertainment, or even just as an escape from the rigid confines of the mainstream game industry. Each of these camps – developers and educators – has its own agenda for taking on projects, its own set of particular dissatisfactions with the current crop of educational games, and – all too often – a complete lack of experience with the concerns of those working on the other side. We (Nick & Eric) have designed games for both entertainment and education. And in the process of juggling player enjoyment and learning goals, development schedules and research agendas, we’ve learned that there are a great many misconceptions regarding educational games. Some of these misconceptions come from educators and some from game developers. In the spirit of bridging this divide, we’d like to tackle head-on some of the key issues involved in creating educational games. Our position, in a nutshell, is that no one has all the answers. Developers and educators need to work together to tackle these issues. So in the short space that follows, we have tried to highlight some of the ways that educators, developers, and others involved in creating and studying educational games fail to see eye to eye. Perhaps by planting some seeds in the fertile “crap” of current educational games, we can begin to grow some new ways of thinking. Game design fundamentals As game designers, we’re loath to theorize on how and why people learn. Cognitive neuroscientists, learning theorists, and professional educators work on these problems full-time. But just as we always seek out the research and advice of our educator colleagues to better understand the learning process, we do know what we have to bring to the discussion. And that is a thoroughgoing knowledge of game design. It may sound trite, but for us educational games are first and foremost games. Whether a bona-fide contest with logical rules and a winning condition, or a Sim City-style sandbox playtoy, a game experience needs to have certain basic elements to be a meaningful experience for players. These elements include interactivity designed with clarity of input and output; short-term and long-term goals to shape the player’s experience, a well- designed ramp for beginners to learn the ropes; and a game structure that actually contains the possibly of genuine play, not just quiz-style questions and answers. Why emphasize what seems so obvious? Because many times we’ve seen educators entering into game development that are content to transfer the style of games onto educational tasks without understanding the substance of what makes a game work. And without these fundamentals, the end experience can be dead in the water. What exactly creates that elusive feeling of “play?” No one really knows. And it varies from game to game. But experienced game designers are probably the best-equipped folks to bring it into your project. Respect the challenge Everyone – both developers and educators – forgets this one: making games is really hard. Even creating a wholly derivative game (a blow-by-blow clone of Bejeweled, or You Don’t Know Jack, or Tomb Raider) is incredibly difficult to do well. When you add to this the ambition of creating an innovative game with new kinds of content and gameplay, as well as a game that actually tries to teach something meaningful to players, the problem is multiplied by orders of magnitude. So one piece of advice we’d offer to those going into educational games: keep it simple. Set your sights lower than a massively multiplayer online role-playing game, or a simulation with the depth and complexity of The Sims. Resources are typically limited in an educational game project, and it usually takes guerrilla-style design thinking to pull something off. For example, if your game needs online player interaction, there are many ways to socialize on a computer besides a full-blown real-time 3D world. Don’t rule out a Habbo Hotel-style 2D world, a turn-based game a la SiSSYFiGHT, imaginative use of message boards and email, or even hotseat-style interaction in front of a single terminal. This is why we are skeptical of many educators’ claims that given access to the latest game engines, they will be able to create top-notch educational games and succeed where everyone else has failed. It’s simply not going to happen. Tools by their nature limit as least as much as they liberate, and creating innovative games on any scale usually means coding them from scratch. That’s not to discourage educators from getting into game development. But all sides that want to get involved need to recognize the challenges and demands of making games. Embrace the “gameness” of games Part of these demands involve the recognition of what is essential to a game. Many people diving into educational games want to capture the excitement and interest that games inspire but simultaneously excise those very aspects of games that generate passion in players. Take the idea of “competition.” One common misconception we’ve seen among educators is to view competition between players as a hindrance to the learning process. Not wanting to classify people as “winners” or “losers,” they envision feel-good cooperative experiences were nobody has to come in second. While well-intentioned, this approach completely misunderstands how competition and collaboration function in games. Every game contains a seed of conflict, whether it comes from the human opponent of a chess game, the hidden word in a game of twenty questions, or a field of AI enemies in a console shooter. The struggle to overcome these obstacles, the engagement necessary to outwit the opponent or solve the riddle, is a primary source of fun. At the same time, every game also intrinsically involves collaboration. Even the most aggressive boxing match requires the fighters to agree to the rules of the game: no foreign objects, no hitting an opponent who’s down, and respect for the judges’ call at the end of the bout. This accord between players is at the heart of any play experience and is exactly what creates the environment where winning and losing are both fair and safe – preparing the way for the game to be played in the first place. Competition and collaboration is just one example of the “gameness” of games. The excitement of games doesn’t magically emerge from fancy graphics, well-written stories, or point-based rewards. Good games integrate a number of complex elements (moments of decision-making, challenging goals, rewarding feedback, etc.) to create a fun play experience. The best way to understand all of this is to try these games yourself. Good game designers don’t just make games; they play them. Lots of them. The best learning games research groups, from MIT to University of Wisconsin to Copenhagen’s IT-U and Learning Lab, incorporate daily hours of play into their practice. If you want to make games, you need to know them, and to know them, you need to get your hands dirty playing them. Process, not data By now, everyone has heard of the poor poster child of educational game crappiness, Math Blaster. Given a mandatory mention at every educational game conference, Math Blaster’s drill-and-practice design carries the failed weight of learning and games on its straw-man shoulders. We don’t see any need to point out yet again how Math Blaster falls short. We’d rather discuss how to avoid making a Math Blaster in the first place. One crucial step is recognizing the importance of process-based gameplay. One feature in all good games is a marriage of form and content. If you want to make a game about car racing, you want the game’s play to feel like racing – fast and risky with lots of quick thinking and make-or-break decisions. A game about diplomacy (like, say, Diplomacy) should not just depict but embody the heady distrust, provisional alliance- making, and social give-and-take of politics. There’s no one right way to design play for any given content, but the result should be that the way the players interact with the game, the process of play, parallels what the game is about. To restate this subtle point, the play of a game is not just graphics, audio, and text. Play is an activity, and the content of a game should be expressed in that activity. The actual repeated actions, decisions and choices, and thinking processes that the game design engenders should themselves embody what the game is about. This is easier said than done – especially for new kinds of subject matter.